


Dear Owner,

by Nisaki



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Wincest - Freeform, an object pov, samulet fix it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 05:06:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10429797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nisaki/pseuds/Nisaki
Summary: The epic story of Sam and Dean as told by the samulet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for wincest love week on tumblr but I never got around to post it. So here it is now. unbeta-ed, sorry for any mistakes.

I am but an object, I can change nothing, I can only observe without being noticed.

I was there since the beginning of time, I've seen too much, I've been held by so many. Some good, some bad and some worst. Nothing stays and I always move along. They die, they leave me behind, they move on, they forget.

I stay and wait.

Years and years after my creation, I was found by a man named Bobby Singer; a young man with a good soul, I've been around long enough to recognize those.

 Bobby carried me in his pocket; he thought I was a protection charm. I was amused. Of all the things I've been used for, or thought I was capable of; protecting someone was never one. I was merely a compass to find someone who no longer wished to be found. I was useless and I would never be precious to someone.

Bobby forgot me on one of his books' shelves, until one day, he gave me to a small boy. He was so tiny and his voice was squeaky, like a mouse he was, running all around and knocking the books, his chestnuts locks covering his forehead. He talked a mile a minute, excitedly telling Bobby about Christmas, and how his father would be there this year, and maybe Dean would get to eat dinner this time.

''Oh no! I have nothing to give dad,'' He said, lips falling into a pretty pout. This human was my favourite so far, too bad he'd grow up. He'd surely lose his shine.

''Well, I have just the thing for you,'' Bobby told him, made me wonder what he'd give the kid. He got nothing on him.

Bobby picked me up and it was weird but I felt some kind of anticipation as he placed me in the kid's hand, telling him how I'd protect his dad. The boy stared at me wide eyed and asked with an innocence I didn't get to see often:

''Protection?'' His eyes were the strangest colour, more like colours. There were fields of sunflowers, sunsets and galaxies in his eyes, and when Bobby told him I'm more effective with the person he loves most, the kid made an indecisive noise and wrinkled his nose, not sure if he'd gift me to his dad anymore. He didn't say a thing, just took me and nodded at Bobby.

I wasn't surprised when my new owner wasn't the kid's father and as his brother, Dean, put me around his neck I felt it, he was the right choice. They hugged and I was squeezed between them, no one has ever been so happy to have me before. Dean's happiness was radiating out of him in waves, infecting me with a light I've never sensed. His chest was warm and his heart was beating fast. I knew the melody his heart was playing.

Love.

''Thanks, Sammy. I love it,'' Dean didn't love me, I mused, he loved Sammy.

Years went on and Dean never, not even once, took me off or put me away. He proudly told every girl who asked why he's so protective of me, that I was a gift from _Sammy_. As if that would make sense to them.

I learned early on that _this_ , and everything about Sam was what Dean breathed for. So when Sam moved away for college, I saw what was coming.

Tears and whiskey, lots and lots of them both. Dean bathed me with his tears almost every night. He tried to throw me away, once. He couldn't, he just wrapped his hand around me and gripped tight, till my edges had no choice but to cut his flesh. He washed me with blood that night, and with rimmed eyes and bloody hand, he broke every piece of furniture in the room. Screamed and screamed till I hated Sam. How could small, sweet Sammy do this to Dean?

Nearly four years later, I heard Dean's heart play the same song he played for me that night, so many years ago, Sam was standing just _there_ , I knew Dean wanted to hold him, kiss him all over and never let him go. He gave a sarcastic notion instead, had I hands, I would've smacked his head.

 

 

Dean's heart was unstable, the beautiful rhythm that used to lull Sam to sleep was so irregular and out of keys. Dean cried and screamed, if I thought he was sad before, I was mistaken, grimly.

Sam died. And Dean was dying alongside. I was a useless object, I could not protect them. I have wanted nothing more than to be a real protection charm. Dean sold his _soul_ , traded a whole eternity of torture for one year with Sam. When his baby brother woke up, Dean held him stronger than  ever. Sam's arms bruised, and so did his hips. I could see he felt it, he felt the frantic urgency to their love making. Sam knew.

I was never around Sam's neck before, I had hoped it would be for a different reason. Dean's year has ended, they were Sam's tears washing me then, Sam's bloody hand I was cutting into. Sam's pained screams of _why why why_ echoing off the walls.

It was worse than anything I've been witness to, Sam's descent into darkness was fast and ugly. It smelled like gunpowder and booze, and Sam's heartbeat was rage and sorrow. Sam was destroying everything, himself included. 

It was the same song when Sam met his brother again, so similar to the one I heard when Dean had first got me, I was ecstatic, maybe we'd get to catch a break.

We didn't, of course, and I felt their fall out before it came, they fought and argued and pushed all the time. They didn't touch and the sound of Dean's fear was so loud, I was about to crack. They were growing apart and I, again, was helpless to their suffering.

It hurt, for the first time, it hurt. Dean was throwing me away, I was falling down. I listened to his footsteps growing faint as he left me behind, as he walked away from _Sammy_.

The tears Sam shed that night were hot, and so, so bitter.

I was kept in the dark for a while, a wooden casket. Sam didn't find it in himself to let go, but he couldn't bear to look at me either, he couldn't bear the weight of their love alone.

It was then I realized that, that was what I symbolized for them, the sonata they played with heartbeats.  _Love_.

Sam came to me just once after that, he was weeping hard. I knew these tears; Dean was gone. I wanted to tell him it's going to be okay, and I was sure it would be, Dean wouldn't leave him, not ever.

I haven't seen Dean in so long, and when I saw him again, the world was falling apart and I was burning hot. He looked so beautiful, he looked so tired. Then he stared at Sam and I saw them again. The same children in the dirty motel room; the one with the pure heart, and the one who had all the colours of the world in his eyes. They never lost their brilliance. In that moment, there wasn't a doubt in me that they would beat this, whatever it was, and come on top. They smiled, and they were warm as they crushed me between their chests.

I was just a necklace, a nameless object, till two small boys held me.

I am just a necklace, but I am a symbol for the greatest love that ever was, the epic love story of Sam and Dean.    

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think :)


End file.
